roman theodore brandt

Jim kicks my bunk in the middle of the night to wake me up, and it scares the shit out of me. I sigh and try to get comfortable again.

"Jeremy, you awake?" he wants to know.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I didn't take you with me," he says from somewhere below me.

The ceiling is starting to come back into focus above me, and I look over at the window, then the closet where some of Jim's stuff still takes up the top shelf. "Yeah, well," I tell him. "You never do."